


Path of the sling

by Hessy



Series: The Ranger Mishaps [6]
Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: (mostly), Canon Compliant, Deborah is a badass queen and you can't change my mind, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, basically Cassandra deserves a full loving family just like all the other characters, but don't worry!, it's mostly fluff, or Deborah & Cassie, the end turned out a bit angsty, there's not enough Cassie & Evanlyn content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hessy/pseuds/Hessy
Summary: Deborah has many useful things to teach to her granddaughter. Especially if they might end up saving her life one day.
Series: The Ranger Mishaps [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696990
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9
Collections: Ranger's Apprentice Quarantine Exchange Party





	Path of the sling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [solarishashernoseinabook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarishashernoseinabook/gifts).



> hey solarishashernoseinabook! I don't know you very well but I hope you'll like this little fic!

One could argue that young Princess Cassandra had many friends and caretakers. 

Her father, of course, spent with her every ounce of the little free time he had. In between diplomatic meetings, paperwork, knight tournaments, and other royal duties the King had, it was hard to find free time for his daughter, but Duncan managed quite well. Of course, Cassandra loved spending time with her father. When he had no important meetings scheduled, she often snuck into his office, sitting on her father’s lap and beaming happily at all nannies she had evaded for the time being who had come there to look for her. 

The Ranger Commandant, Crowley, belonged to one of her regular caretakers. The young Princess was always fascinated when he was practicing archery at the range. She trailed behind him when he was brushing his horse. Yes, you could say Cassandra liked spending time with Crowley. She was never afraid of the Rangers, not of Crowley nor any other Ranger that came to visit Castle Araluen. She trusted them, knowing from a very young age that they were not, in fact, evil sorcerers who used dark magic to their advantage. 

One could argue that one of Castle Araluen’s cooks could be considered the Princess’ nanny. In fact, it was the daughter of said cook. She was only a few years older than the Princess, had vibrant red hair and freckles all over her face. Her name was Evanlyn. The two girls spent a lot of time together, never caring about the vast gap between nobility and peasantry. They were friends; even though Evanlyn wasn’t the only child close to the Princess’ age, these two made an inseparable team. They would go outside into the gardens together, the guards keeping a close eye on them both. Cassandra cared deeply for her friend, the two of them vowing to always be friends until death would separate them.

But, if there was anyone who was as close to the Princess as her father, it was her grandmother. The Queen Mother, Deborah, cared for Cassandra deeply. She had been helping Duncan raise the young Princess from day one when her real mother died and Crowley arrived on an exhausted horse with a small bundle of clothes in his arms. Deborah was growing old but she still had spirit and took care of her granddaughter seriously. 

Maybe she felt guilty, too. When Morgarath had tried to take over the kingdom, keeping late King Oswald prisoner in his castle, Deborah had sat home with Lady Rosalind, hearing grave news about Duncan going rampage in the northern fiefs. She felt guilty for believing those fake messages. She should have known better; she had, after all, raised the King into the fine young man he was today. Instead, she and Rosalind had feared the worst. Neither of them knew and trusted Duncan enough to even think about the possibility that he wasn’t truly the one plundering the villages, killing cattle and setting houses on fire. 

She wanted to amend for her mistake, too. She had done her best to both help her son in running the kingdom and in raising his daughter. The nobles thought Cassandra needed a female role model in her life, but oh boy, how wrong they were. Deborah may have been the Queen Mother, but, out of the official meetings, she was far from ladylike. 

It was always her who took Cassandra out in the gardens, the five-year-old Princess sitting on her bay pony, teaching her how to ride properly. She would teach the Princess that while fancy clothes were good to wear to formal events like balls and hunts was alright, she, being a noble, always had the option to wear cheaper, more comfortable clothes. When the Princess was older, Deborah fully planned on teaching her how to use a crossbow. But, since Cassandra was still young, she supposed she could teach her how to use a much less dangerous weapon.

That day, Deborah came into the Princess’ chambers. For once, Cassandra was there, drawing on the floor while her nanny sat at a table, watching her from time to time. The last time this woman babysat the Princess, Cassandra got into trouble, almost getting a sharp knife to fall from a counter. After that, the nanny got quite a yelling. She was just glad they didn’t outright fire her. Now she anxiously kept an eye on the Princess, making sure she didn’t magically vanish like she’d seen the Rangers do. 

Now, the woman shot from her seat, curtsying in front of the Queen Mother. She kept the position until she was told to leave the room. 

The nanny, not wanting to argue that the Princess was just about to have her lessons, hurriedly walked to the door, closing it behind her. 

Cassandra stood up, beaming at her grandmother happily. 

“Grandma!” she called, pleased to see her. She left her pencils on the floor, jumping into Deborah’s arms. The woman lifted her up.

“You’re getting too big for me, Cassie,” she huffed. The girl was five years old and getting bigger and heavier. Soon the aging queen wouldn’t be able to lift the little girl off the ground anymore. 

The Princess giggled and hugged her. Only reluctantly she let herself be set back down on the ground, taking Deborah’s hand in hers immediately. 

“What will we do today?” Cassandra asked, her green eyes wide, a curious expression on her face. Her curiosity never ceased to amaze the Queen Mother. She patted the Princess’ head. 

“We’re going to get your friend Evanlyn and I’ll show you how to put a sling together,” she said, making Cassandra squeal. She ran up to the door, reaching for the handle. 

Deborah just snickered and followed after the excited girl. 

First, they went down to the kitchens, passing numerous servants who hastily greeted them “Your Majesty” and “Your Highness”. Cassandra frowned every time. She was used to being called just Cassandra or Cass by her father, grandmother, and friends. She linked that name to pleasant memories and looked upon the formal title. 

The two royal ladies entered the kitchens, once again earning bows and hasty greetings. Deborah raised her hand, silencing them, gesturing that they could get back to work. 

A girl that looked to be around eight years old left her work lay on the table and came over. Her red hair was tied up in a ponytail of sorts, even though a few stray strands stood out, falling into her face full of freckles. But, that was just Evanlyn Wheeler. She was just an ordinary peasant girl who happened to be best friends with the Crown Princess of Araluen. 

“Cass!” she exclaimed and went to hug her friend, much to the dismay of the cooks. Some of them didn’t believe the girl could be friends with a Princess. One of the women hurried to them, taking Evanlyn by the shoulders and bowing submissively to the Queen. 

“I apologise for her behaviour, Your Majesty,” she said, lightly pushing her daughter to the working table. Evanlyn grumbled but complied. 

Deborah smiled. 

“No need to apologise for her, Edith,” the Queen Mother soothed the cook. The woman looked taken aback that the Queen knew her name. She bowed again. 

“Actually, we were thinking of borrowing Evanlyn for a while, if you don’t mind?” the Queen said, earning another surprised expression from Edith. Evanlyn’s mother seemed to think about it for a minute. She turned her head to see her daughter, but there was no one at the table. Instead, Evanlyn was next to her, doing her best puppy-eyes expression, hoping she would get permission to get out of work. 

As her mother, Edith was partially immune to her daughter’s innocent expression but she had to admit that the eight-year-old girl had kept to the kitchen these past few days and could use some time with her friend, even though this friend was much higher in the social hierarchy. 

“Yes, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” she curtsied clumsily, then turned to Evanlyn. 

“You’re free to go, but be back before sundown,” she ordered, coming to the table to finish her daughter’s work. 

The Queen Mother led the chatting girls out of the castle and into the gardens. Once there, the children were happy to run free. Deborah let them; God knew that they haven’t seen each other much during the past week. She hitched up her skirt and sat down in the soft grass, waiting for the kids to tire out from running. 

Out of breath, Evanlyn stopped in a respectable distance and, her cheeks red from running, Cassandra coming to a stop a few moments later. 

“What are we gonna do today, Grandma?” the Princess asked, voicing the question Evanlyn had on the tip of her tongue but thought it too bold to ask the Queen.

Deborah smiled mysteriously and put her hand into a pocket of her dress. She fished some brown material and showed it to the girls. 

At first, Cassandra narrowed her eyes at it. In her age, she couldn’t yet tell that these were soft, supple, and thin pieces of leather. Evanlyn, however, could, and she wrinkled her nose. 

“Leather?” she asked, not making any sense of just parts. 

Deborah just smiled more, untangled the pieces, and put them in the grass. From her pocket, she dug out a nice oval rock, setting it down next to the leather. 

“Today, girls, I will teach you how to make a sling,” she winked at them. Evanlyn’s green eyes brightened. 

“I know how to use a sling!” She and other servants’ kids had them, but she didn’t know how to make it. She was honestly surprised that the Queen Mother would know. 

Cassandra radiated enthusiasm. Excited, she watched as the Queen showed them how to make a pouch. There was enough material for three slings, one for each of them, and once they had repeated the motion of putting in a smooth rock and stretching it, then releasing the leather again, Cassandra stopped. 

“Hands hurt,” she whined, looking at her almost-sling that was laying on the ground. A frustrated tear slid down her cheek. Evanlyn relentlessly continued with the motion, creating her sling. 

Deborah laid her sling next to Cassandra’s and put one hand on the small girls’ shoulder. 

“Cassandra, the leather with which we make our slings, is durable, just like our bodies. Someday, this sling could save your life. Cherish it, once you learn how to use it, it will be more than just a tool. It will be a part of you.”

The Princess looked into her grandmother’s wise eyes. She sniffed and wiped the teardrop off her face and again took to repeating the tiring motion Deborah showed her. 

The three women continued their work, creating three beautiful slings. 

* * *

Years later in Celtica, when Deborah had long passed away, Cassandra remembered her wise words as she fended off one of the stray Wargals that came after her. 

_Someday, this sling could save your life._ The sling was now gone, lost in the attack in which her best friend perished, but the small weapon did give Cassandra hope. Thanks to the sacrifice of both her guard and the sling, she was able to escape and see another day. Cassandra let a lone tear slide her face as she urged her horse to run away, run away from the Wargals, from her best friend, from her sling and her grandmother’s memory.


End file.
